


A Little Death

by orphan_account



Category: Persona 3
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-10
Updated: 2008-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-14 10:16:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15386592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: From the Olympic kink meme. Minato commands his persona Mot to fuck him.





	A Little Death

He was dragged into the coffin of his own accord, into the smell of mud and wet dead things. There was a breath from inside – ironic that the master of death should have a life of his own, that Death himself could live and die – but that's how it was. It was all the same thing, in the end, the same part of him that talked to him during the Dark Hour and whispered nothings in his ear. That part was gone now, separate, become his own being – and Minato needed to fill the void, fill it with decay and rot and inevitable endings.

Mot's claws slit his shirt from collar to waistline, cutting a shallow line across his skin underneath the cross, the wound bleeding just enough to make Minato shiver. _Boy,_ he said. _Foolish boy._

It was all in his head anyway, this thing, what could it say to him that would matter. “Fuck me,” Minato said, commanding the Persona with his mind and his words, and Mot laughed.

_I've forgotten... what bodies are like, living. Remind me, little lamb._

Minato pulled the coffin door shut, squeezing himself in all the way, until it was open only a crack. Death meant nothing if you couldn't see a light, a life to envy. Mot's body retained only the bare shape of a human, his legs rotting around Minato one curled around his, something soft hitting Minato's crotch. Mot's eyes glowed valley-grass green, filled with half-forgotten memories of the living.

Mot took Minato's hand to his mouth, taking in the fingers one by one and then the whole hand, taking in more than a human mouth could swallow, letting Minato feel the press of his teeth on skin, letting him bleed some more, tasting the flesh of his newest lamb. _I could eat you..._ Mot didn't speak with his mouth, he spoke with his eyes, the only living part of him. Dead things couldn't talk, of course.

Minato's lids lowered as Mot drew the hand out of his mouth. He had only been teasing, after all. There were other things for him to consume.

Mot's body was ash pressed into human form, but there were ways to make himself solid, and Minato's life made him hard. He pressed into Minato, grasping Minato's head in his hands, biting his neck over the pulse of life as his thigh pressed into the pulse of Minato's cock. His tongue met Minato's ear – _splitting, burning, grinding, and winnowing_ – and Minato could feel each of those sensations that had once wracked Mot's body coursing through his groin with each press of Mot's knee.

_Do you long for it?_

“I... want it.”

_Like the longing of the dolphins in the sea?_

“Yes.”

_Good. Mine is the appetite of the lions in the wilderness._

Mot's claws plunged down then, both at once, ripping Minato's pants as one took his cock and the other gripped his ass, fingers prying, stroking, scraping. There was blood, and Minato arched at it, neck craning at the feeling of his life leaving his body in slow increments. He breathed in quick and out slow, shaky, feeling each cold, wet touch as his blood drained from his body and into his cock and Mot's claws. His shoulders pressed back into the side of the coffin, splinters working past his shirt and into his shoulders as his hips pressed forward into Mot's body and Mot's hands.

 _Yessss...._ Mot's strokes increased in speed and strength, a claws running up Minato's cock and the other into his ass, pressing to find that spot – and Minato was near the end, he counted down, seven strokes, each one a year long as his body tensed –

But this wasn't rebirth, this was a little death, and his cock lay limp and dead in the aftermath.

 


End file.
